


I want you (and I always will)

by leopoldjamesfitz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Future Fic, F/M, Mentions of Major Character Death, because hell yeah i'm not waiting a year for their canon to ruin it, but also a fix it fic, check and mate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopoldjamesfitz/pseuds/leopoldjamesfitz
Summary: Breathe in and out.It’s a tiny setback, she tells herself, hand clenched into a fist. They’d taken his ring and given it to her. She looped it on a necklace and thrown it underneath her clothes. She’d packed all of his belongings in a suitcase to help keep her motivated.We’ll give it back to him, she thinks, when we find him.





	I want you (and I always will)

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 5X22. I'm not gonna even go into how much of a bull crap fest that was, but here's my attempt at a fix it fic. I might've cried once or twice writing it. Maybe. Like... 45% chance. Thanks for reading!

Breathe in and out.

It’s a tiny setback, she tells herself, hand clenched into a fist. They’d taken his ring and given it to her. She looped it on a necklace and thrown it underneath her clothes. She’d packed all of his belongings in a suitcase to help keep her motivated.

We’ll give it back to him, she thinks, when we find him.

The starting point is as easy as she can imagine, because of course they haven’t the slightest idea just where in the universe Fitz actually is. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about all of that nonsensical stuff in the future, too busy and intent on saving a world that had already been broken apart.

She thinks about it all when she settles in their bunk that night, not the one that they’ve been sleeping in since they’d returned to the lighthouse, but the one that had somehow became theirs on the Zephyr. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, but she doesn’t mind. Instead, she grabs the sleep shirt he’d used the night before and lays down, trying to sort the two of them in her head.

Her Fitz was still the Fitz that had come back with them. Perhaps seventy-four years older, but her Fitz nonetheless. He was still precisely at the exact point of growth that he was when he found her in an alien bunker in the future.

He was still hers.

Before she falls asleep, she slides out the ring from its perch against her chest and promises herself that they will find him. No matter what it takes. For their future, for their daughter.

(And then, she promises herself, using her last wakeful breath, they will find peacefulness in Perthshire; something she’s been dreaming of so much lately.)

* * *

Finding a place to start turns out, quite ironically, to be the easiest part of their mission. Finding aforementioned place to start, one Lance Hunter, turns out to be the bigger issue. He’s always been good at hiding, but he’s better at it somehow. He’d hidden Polly and Robin away before having to rush off somewhere to save the life of his ex-wife and current girlfriend and… completely dropped out of sight.

It frustrates her and more than she’d admit, and she loses her temper quite a bit in the first few weeks of trying to find it. They aren’t working on a schedule. Fitz is safe and will be safe for seventy-four years… all to go to a future that no longer exists.

But she craves him more than she can put into words. Not just his touch but his presence. She’s been without him once before, months actually, but it’s never gotten easier. This time is no different.

She categorizes that thought away and focuses on the mission, because Jemma Simmons knows that they will find him. The when is still iffy, but they will find him. She has never let him down before, and much the same he has not let her down before.

Their team, still fractured with the loss of three of its members, keeps her strength up on the days that are harder. (And there are a lot of them.)

Mack gives her his phone on the bad days. Sits with her as they both watch the video he’d taken and cry together, mourning a lost friend.

Elena sits with her a lot, too, and they both read from the bible even though Jemma’s never been a god fearing woman. It comforts her, listening to Elena read from it, and sometimes she’ll go to sleep listening to the other woman speak.

Daisy sits with her even though for a long while neither of them say anything. Daisy is the only one that doesn’t offer them condolences, and she’s thankful for that, though she wonders idly if it’s because she’s not sad from time to time.

The day Daisy shows up at her bunk and sweeps her into a hug, sobbing hard enough to shake them both, reminds her of how foolish she was to think that in the first place.

“I’m still mad at him,” Daisy tells her through her tears. “But he doesn’t deserve that… he didn’t deserve that.”

Jemma agrees, and for the first time since Mack had come into Coulson’s hospital room and told her what had happened, she crumbles.

* * *

Deke stays.

He sits with her the most, holding her hand, and the both of them don’t talk about him being there, or how it’s possible.

It gives her hope.

* * *

_I’ve been thinking of what to say._

_It’s just… words don’t really seem… enough._

* * *

“What the bloody hell?” Is the first thing she hears Lance Hunter say in almost two years. The second thing is a startled grunt when she throws herself into his arms.

She’s never felt so simultaneously relieved and scared in her life.

“Woah,” he gasps, squeezing her back. “Simmons, it’s good to see you too, but can I get a little room to breathe?”

She laughs and pulls away, a strained smile on her face as he stares at her for a beat, looking behind her to where only Mack stands.

“He found you, huh?” He asks after a beat, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth. Hunter moves to the side, letting them come in before closing the door behind him. He stutters, and she notices, reaching over to grab his shoulder. She’s had months to deal with this, months to go over a game plan in her mind and come to a solution. He needs just a moment, she agrees, to mourn a friend.

As she steps forward, out of the corner of her eye, she watches Mack and Hunter embrace.

“But he’s not here now.” A fourth voice remarks, and the three of them turn to see Bobbi Morse, hair cropped to her shoulders but still in bouncy waves. Jemma freezes before rushing across the room, engulfing the taller woman in a fierce hug.

Bobbi, for her part, squeezes back just as tight.

Jemma takes a moment to be thankful that they are both safe, and that they’ve both lasted through the last two years since being on the run before she pulls away, her eyes filling with tears. It doesn’t take Bobbi long to put two and two together and she gently cups Jemma’s cheek before pulling her back into another hug.

“I’m so sorry, Jemma,” she whispers into her hair.

Jemma sinks into her embrace. The two had been close before all of this, but not as close as Fitz had been with Bobbi and Hunter. He’d like to see them again, she knows, and that is what she holds on to.

Pulling away from the embrace after a moment, she wipes underneath her eyes and sniffles soundly, just barely holding herself together. “I know that it’s dangerous,” Jemma begins, stepping back to look at both of them as her heart thuds in her chest. “But I have to ask you a favor. Both of you. I guess.” She smiles up at Bobbi. “I really wasn’t expecting to find you, too.”

Hunter beams before she can even finish her sentence. “We’re going to get him back, aren’t we?” He asks suddenly, as though he can read her thoughts. “Does this mean we get to wear space suits? I’ve always thought I’d look good as an astronaut.”

Bobbi snorts, placing her hand on Jemma’s back as she nods. “Ignore him, I do.” She tells her and the two of them laugh quietly together, ignoring Hunter’s indignation. “But of course, Jemma. You don’t even have to ask.”

Bobbi’s words bring her more comfort than she has felt in months and she nods, looking over at Hunter who’s still staring between them a little petulantly. She’s missed him. 

Hunter rubs the back of his neck, breaking character for a moment as he wrinkles his nose, letting out a long, exhaustive sigh. “Uh,” he starts, pausing. “Unless you happen to have a space ship in your repertoire, it’s gonna be a little bit difficult to get there.”

Mack chuckles then, slapping Hunter on the back shaking his head slowly. “As it turns out, Hunter,” he says, shaking his head, incredulous. “We do.”

* * *

_I think that you are perfect._

* * *

“They didn’t give me an exact GPS location in case I wanted to come for a visit,” Hunter argues, throwing his hands up in the air. “I just know that they were in some vessel orbiting ‘a nearby planet’. So… close?”

Deke grunts, throwing himself back into a nearby chair. “Well, we _knew_ that, Dummy.” He remarks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why did we waste six months looking for this guy if this was all we were going to get out of him? We could have been up in space three times now and gotten him back.”

Understandably, Hunter and Deke hadn’t quite gotten off on the right foot. Jemma wasn’t surprised, not given how much Deke reminds her of Fitz. He doesn’t like change, and she knows he’s just as desperate as she is to find Fitz, though she thinks it’s for reasons that aren’t as selfish as they had once been.

“We would have run out of fuel and been stranded,” Daisy reminds him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “And we needed the extra bodies.”

“Oy,” Hunter scoffs. “Remind me again who this joker is?” He asked, ignoring Daisy’s comment altogether. He’s glad to be back, even if tensions are thick.

“He’s FitzSimmons’ grandson from a future that doesn’t exist anymore.” Mack replied dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. Bobbi and Hunter both look at him. “Hey, don’t look at me, I’m just as confused as you are.”

Deke makes a face and sighs. “I don’t even really know why or how I’m here,” he tells them, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess I should be glad that I didn’t blink out of existence, but considering my only taste of outside was like… less than half of a day and we are on our way back up to space, I’m kind of finding it hard to think positive here.”

“We’ll all take you to Disneyland when we get back,” Mack replies, straightening his shoulders as he looks around the room slowly. “But first – back to business. Where the hell do we start?”

The room fell silent because really, Jemma had hoped and prayed to a God that she had never really believed in that finding Hunter would find them answers and bring her closer to Fitz, but it had all been for naught. And they had never been further away from a solution than they were in that moment.

If she had any tears left to shed, they’d be needed now.

She places her hand on her chest and holds the ring through her shirt and bites down on her lower lip to stop it from wobbling. She wishes Fitz were here, helping them because he’s always been her best half. He’s always been there to help her with the answers that are just on the tip of her tongue but could never articulate.

“The beginning,” she says finally, her voice shaky. “We start at the beginning.”

* * *

Jemma does not sleep for three days, researching planets and constellations, wondering where in the universe they could be.

For three days she spends every lasting moment researching it all.

On the fourth day, Daisy and Bobbi find her. She doesn’t remember the last time she showered, nor does she remember the last time she ate something that wasn’t sweets.

Fitz is somewhere laughing at her, because she’s reduced herself to the same habits he had when they were in the Academy, and that warms her up.

“Jemma,” Daisy’s hand on her shoulder startles her. “We’re going to find him.” She reminds her quietly, because she wonders idly if she hadn’t forgotten about it already.

Bobbi smiles at her when she reaches her gaze, squeezing her knee. “But it’s not going to do you any good if you don’t sleep.”

On the fourth day, she sleeps, surrounded by Bobbi and Daisy who despite knowing anything about her filing system and how she’d arranged all of her erratic notes, pick up the cause for her.

On the fourth day, she dreams of Fitz and Perthshire and feels at home.

* * *

_I don’t deserve you, Jemma. I don’t._

_I don’t deserve you._

* * *

In the end, finding him was perhaps the easiest part of all of this.

Not the ensuing two months that passed. Throwing together prototypes that could help them navigate outer space to try and find signs of life that almost always failed. The trips that came up empty. Her tear stained shirts that were inevitably from his own closet.

But finding him, finding him was easy.

Of all the planets they’d thought to look, Ceres was not high on her list. It was smaller and quieter, perhaps the perfect place to hide in plain sight, and she nearly crumbles when she sees it, the small vessel, looping around the circumference of the planet.

6886 hours have passed since he did. She does not wish to waste another.

She’s the first to board the vessel despite Mack’s warnings, though he is close behind, on her heels the entire time. Enoch is looming when they enter in through the doorway, looking confused but unthreatening. She clenches her ICER for a moment before she drops it, holding her hands up.

“You’re Jemma Simmons,” Enoch says after a moment of silence, a rare smile finding his features. “I was hoping one day that we would meet.”

Jemma smiles too, hastily tucking away her ICER before she moves toward the large cryo-freeze chamber, a sob of relief crawling up her throat as she sees him slumbering inside. She allows herself a moment to forget everything, forget seeing his lifeless body, forget burying him in a grave, forget mourning him.

He’s right here, she thinks quietly, but he’s never been further away.

Finding him was the easiest part of all of this. But waking him up was another story.

* * *

For the first twelve days after they find him, the cryo-freeze chamber sits in their bunk. She stumbles over it half a dozen times in her pacing and pulls it closer to the edge of her bed to feel as though he is there with her when she finally falls into a restless sleep at night, but it’s comforting.

On the thirteenth day, she thinks that she has enough information to proceed with attempting to wake him up.

On the fourteenth day, she has an argument with Enoch over its possibility. He does not think that it is safe to wake up Fitz before it is his time. His brain could be damaged. He could never wake up again.

On the fifteenth day, she provides him years and years of theoretical research – because cryogenically freezing someone, up to this point, has all been theoretical – that talk about things like waking up early and the effects on the brain. Effects on his muscles. Effects on his person.

On the twentieth day, Enoch still contests that it might be safer to leave him to remain until the time in which he’d originally programmed.

Nevertheless, he relented.  Before her eyes, he tapped vigorously until the numbers on the display plate read just under two days.

“It’s a slow process,” he tells her, answering her unasked question. “If we rush it, the results could be catastrophic.”

Jemma knows. While Fitz has only been in cryo-freeze for a handful of weeks, there’s still enough worry that the time he’s spent in this chamber could have altered his cells irreparably or injured his already fractured mind.

The team come together to take turns watching over him as the hours tick by. From two days, to one, to three hours. Jemma sits by his side, palm sitting on the icy glass as she waits.

Deke joins her in the final hour, resting his hand on her shoulder. She eventually allows herself to curl into him, needing the comfort as the final minutes tick on. They aren’t sure if he will wake up right away, or if it will take a few days. Cryogenically freezing another human being is such an uninformed task.

“My memories haven’t changed,” he tells her quietly, making her slowly sit up and look at him with confusion in her eyes. “I was wondering if they’d might… like you know, if I might remember you guys taking me to the park once or what fresh air feels like on my cheeks or snow… but all I can remember is the Lighthouse.”

His confession weighs heavy on her, though she can’t figure out why. Perhaps it’s because it does not make sense that Deke would be there, given that they stopped that future from happening. But maybe his existence is meant to be an anomaly. Something that hadn’t happened in previous loops.

Maybe he was meant to be their hope in the darkness.

* * *

Fourteen hours later, Fitz opens his eyes.

He finds hers.

Fitz sits up quickly before he loses balance and she stands up quickly and places a hand on his shoulder. He stops then, looking up at her as he lets out a slow breath. “I…” he murmurs, his voice dry from disuse. “I was on my way to save you.”

Jemma laughs, and it’s wet and hopeful and it strangles in her throat. She reaches up, cupping his icy cheek and ignoring the shiver that goes through her. “You did, Fitz.” She whispers quietly. “You did.”

He stutters, his eyes looking everywhere but her for a moment until he locks onto something. As her breathing evens, and her right hand cradles his cold cheek, she looks down too at the ring that still weighs heavy on her hand. The ring she’s been unable to remove from her hand since she’d learned of the news.  
  
"How much did I miss?" He chokes out slowly. "Who..."  
  
"You, Fitz." She whispers, a watery smile tugging on her cheeks. "It was always you."

* * *

She tells him of the broken future. Of how they saved the world. And everything in between. Of finding one another and losing one another again. Of the time that’s passed since she last saw him, albeit a different version.

Fitz listens with an increased curiosity, and for a long time it is just the two of them. Deke had slipped out when Fitz had woken up, more than likely with the request that they give them a few minutes alone. Those few minutes turn into days.

After a while, she digs out Mack’s phone and charges it. Fitz is filled with grief for all that she had lost, including himself, and she does not let him dwell on it. Instead, she gives him the video she’s watched too many times to count and lets him experience it for the first time.

The promise of their future.

He lays on her chest, his shoulder digging into her abdomen and her left leg slightly numb from the weight he’s put on it by leaning into it but she can’t find it in her to complain or to ask him to move. Instead, she cards her fingers through his hair and watches as he holds Mack’s phone in his hands, awestruck and…

Sad.

Fitz adjusted, brushing a kiss against the bottom of her chin before settling once more, pulling back the video to her vows.

(He’s watched the video enough to know exactly when they start.)

His finger always hesitates right above the play button when they end, taking a moment to just watch her face before he pauses and pulls the control back to start them all over again.

Fitz has been at this for hours, she thinks; he’s warm to the touch now, something that keeps her comfortable and safe. He’d been so cold when they’d first cracked the code to slowly wake him up, and she’d held him for hours afterward, letting him soak up all of her body heat until he’d fallen asleep once more and she’d stayed awake to just watch him.

She’d been without him long enough that sleeping didn’t even seem like an option. Especially not when she feared that closing her eyes would only result in her waking up, only to find that this had been one large dream.

“My life… my heart… my home.” Video-Jemma says and she hears his breath hitch once more, halt for a moment, and then shudder out.

It takes her a moment longer to realize he’s crying.

Sliding her hand down and around his chin, she gently tilts it up. The video still plays, but neither of them pay attention to it. Instead, she wipes away his tears and presses a kiss to the center of his forehead. For a moment, the only thing between them is their shuddering breaths.

“I…” he stutters, the first word he’s said in hours. “I wanted to.”

It takes her a moment to realize what he meant, his words vague but filled with meaning at the same time. Because of course, she’d known that. The very first thing – or so he said – that he’d done when they’d had a moment alone together in the broken future was ask her that question.

“I had a speech prepared,” he murmurs, locking the phone and laying it on the side. He takes her hand in his, the one that still wears the ring he gave her and holds it close enough that she can almost feel his heartbeat. “I wrote it… a hundred times over. Scrapped it every time when Hale had me.”

There’s a lump in her throat as she thinks about how much he’s missed since that. How lucky and unlucky he is at the same time. To be free of all that has gone on, but to also be burdened with what he missed. It’s an impossible thought.

“You must’ve liked it though, I imagine,” he tells her, the corners of his lips quirking up in a half smile and she feels it against her skin. It warms her from the inside out, even more so when his thumb rolls along the ring that she’d never gathered the courage to take off.

“Actually,” she replies back quickly, teasingly. He turns toward her, her tone catching him off guard and there’s a brief glimpse of fear in his eyes. “I didn’t hear it… Kasius, the one who had me enslaved, he had an implant that turned my hearing off. So technically, he accepted _my_ proposal.”

Fitz scoffs then, twisting until his back is against the wall. His mouth falls agape a little, shocked and mock hurt filling his features. “I worked hard on that!”

The smile she shares with him is warm and she nods, because she knows. While they’d never gotten a chance to talk about that proposal either, she knows he did. Fitz isn’t one for words, but he’s always been eloquent in his speech when it’s necessary. She cradles his jaw and runs her thumb along his lower lip.

“So tell me it again, Fitz,” she whispers quietly, slowly. “Ask me again.”

So he does.

* * *

The second time they marry, she walks down the aisle on her father’s arm. It’s all a bit cliché, even for them, but she can’t find it in herself to complain. This wedding… it’s everything she’d dreamed about.

Although their first was amazing and perfect and every other adjective she can think of, the missing people whose absence she felt the most are all surrounding her now. Hunter and Bobbi, Elena, their parents, her brother and sister.

Fitz does not remember their first wedding, aside from the countless times he had watched the video that Mack had given her, and inevitably she had given him, and for the first time she doesn’t feel that gaping hole in her chest for all the things that they lost, but rather hope for the things that they have gained.

Fitz grabs for her the moment she’s within reach, ignoring the tradition – because they’ve hardly ever been traditional – and kissing her right there. They both pull away after a moment, identical large grins on their features.

He beams, the pure joy and happiness that comes over his features barely fleeting when he catches her father’s less-than-thrilled face at the display, though James offers him a smile nonetheless. “Sorry,” Fitz murmurs after a moment, no hint of actual guilt in his voice. “It’s been a long time coming, s’all.”

“Son,” James laments, raising his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell _me_ that.”

His comment sends laughter throughout the small crowd.

Coulson clears his throat and draws attention back to the ceremony, and not for the first time, they are both glad that he is still there with them today. His life still lives in imbalance, but in the end, all of theirs do. But he’s family and he’s a home away from home. “Shall we?”  He asks after a moment, a small smile gracing his features when he meets Jemma’s gaze.

He’d done this before, they know, but they make no mention of it. (Though she had learned earlier from May that he had spent the entirety of the last six months after they’d asked him getting properly ordained so that their union this time could be legal.)

In the backyard of his family home, where they’d spent a great deal of time over the years, growing their friendship and their trust in one another, they join hands and become husband and wife once more.

* * *

_And I’m well aware that I’m the luckiest man… on any planet._

* * *

Coming home from his sessions with Dr. Peters always leaves him feeling heavier than usual, though he understands why. Dealing with the after effects of the Framework coupled with his own grief for what Jemma had lost while simultaneously still gaining him in the process had been heavy on his mind. It was why, in the end, they’d both found Dr. Peters and both had individual sessions once a week, and then one together.

It was not perfect, and they were still healing, but they were together. In the end, perhaps, that was their greatest win yet.

After leaving S.H.I.E.L.D., the two had purchased a small cottage, not quite the one that Jemma had been dreaming of but theirs nonetheless, and settled down. The intention was to settle down with just the two of them, and heal around their loss, but of course, fate as it would have it, had other plans.

For seven months after their wedding, Aurora Evelyn was born.

(They name her _Aurora_ for its meaning; a new dawn, a new beginning – and this was theirs.)

Fitz doesn’t regret one moment. Not a single moment. For even on the bad days, when one or both of them wake up from a nightmare, they have a beam of light, of hope, in their baby daughter, and each other.

He opens the front door without preamble and kicks off his shoes, walking down the hallway slowly. It’s so quiet in their home that he wonders for a moment if Rory and Jemma hadn’t fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him. His appointment had run a bit late, and despite promises of an afternoon picnic in their backyard, he wouldn’t blame them for having to postpone it.

However, before he can turn the corner into their living room, a little blur falls in front of him, picking herself up without so much as a whimper before she beams and thrusts her fists in the air. “Daddy!”

He’ll never get sick of that, he thinks quietly.

Reaching down, he lifts her into his arms and kisses the top of her head. “Hey, baby girl.” He says lowly, reaching to grab her small hand in his. She grabs his thumb and laughs quietly. “Where’s your Mum?”

“Picking up the mess she just made while trying to stand up and make her way to you,” Jemma appears in the doorway, holding Rory’s favorite stuffed animal, a monkey, and holding it out to her. “Your Mum called and asked if we’re still coming down for dinner tomorrow evening, by the way. I told her you’d call.” She adds, kissing his cheek as she disappears back into the living room.

Fitz follows close behind, adjusting Rory on his hip. “Don’t be sour, Jemma, one day she and I will destroy the kitchen trying to make you breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day and I’ll have to clean that up.”

Jemma looks over her shoulder, levels him with a look and pokes her tongue out at him. It only takes a moment before they are both bellowing with laughter. Aurora, for her part, looks on, biting at Monkey’s (named appropriately) paw.

They are getting better.

Fitz grins, turning his attention back to their daughter. “What do you say, Ror,” he murmurs, rubbing her side with his palm as she looks upon him, deep brown eyes staring back at him. So soulful and wide, they remind him of Jemma’s every day. “Do you wanna go see Gramma and Rocko tomorrow?”

Rory bobs her head, though he wasn’t too sure if she had quite identified anyone outside of their little triangle quite yet. Gramma and Nana and Papa came as often as they could, but of course, she was too young to retain much of an ongoing knowledge of their parents just yet. They did show her pictures of her parents especially, as it was important for her to know the people who adored her in her life. Much the same, they had weekly facetime chats with the remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. team, getting her familiarized with them all.

Rory was more loved than she would ever know.

“And Rodger,” Jemma calls over her shoulder, placing the last block back in its container.

Fitz makes a quiet noise and wrinkles his nose. “Yes, I suppose he’ll be around somewhere.” He addresses. Though his mother’s relationship with the elder man wasn’t new by any means, it was something he was still getting familiarized with himself, especially considering they had been living together for the better part of two and a half years now.

Jemma snickers quietly and kisses his cheek, snuggling into his side, a contented sigh on her lips. “Behave,” she warns, though it’s through giggles of her own. He bends and presses a kiss to her forehead, wrapping his free arm around her waist.

“Now,” he murmured, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Jemma laughs quietly, reaching over to gently take Monkey’s poor paw from their daughter’s mouth before gently caressing the babe’s head. Rory stares back at her with a ferocity that goes unmatched and his heart clenches in his chest as he watches them interact.

He’d always known that Jemma would make a wonderful mother, but seeing it in action is something else entirely.

“Now,” he says after another moment, completely unwilling to disentangle from their little safe embrace, but also aching for food. “I do believe we decided on a picnic this afternoon?” He asked, reluctantly pulling his arm away from her waist and stepping away, just enough to catch her gaze.

Jemma nods, a small smile tugging at her cheeks. The two of them will talk about what he’d talked about in his session with Dr. Peters later when Rory naps, and for now, that is enough.

“Of course,” she agrees, moving slowly toward the kitchen. “I _did_ make your favorite, and packed it all up with some fruit and yoghurt for Rory.”

Fitz groans in response, his excitement palpable and he nearly chases her down to the kitchen, pressing a kiss along the top of her head. “God, you’re the best,” he beamed. “I’ll go get Rory sunscreened up, because if she got one thing from both of us, it’s her pastiness, and then we can go out into the garden.” He told her, turning to press a quick kiss to Rory’s cheek, who pawed him away, as they walked toward her nursery. “Let me tell you, baby girl, when you can eat some of your Mum’s prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwiches, it’s going to change your life,” he tells her as they walk away, making her laugh.

Jemma watches them both as they disappeared down the hallway, a small smile tugging on her features as she moved toward the refrigerator, gathering everything together.

They were not completely alright, but that was okay. Their bad days did not outweigh the good any longer, and that was a good start. The bits and pieces that were still fractured would heal themselves in time, and despite everything, she’d never been happier in her life.

They had made it, above all, and that in itself was particularly something to celebrate.

From Aurora’s room, she heard a loud crash and then indistinct mumbling and Rory’s loud laughter. Without a moment’s hesitation, she closed the refrigerator door and moved toward them, a small, but hesitant smile on her own cheeks.

(She’ll ignore the mess of the baby powder on the floor when she gets there in favor of helping him clean it up, though before or after she makes a mess of herself is yet to be decided.)

It’s been nearly twenty thousand hours since they reunited once more, and she hardly wants to wait another moment away from them.


End file.
